We have a chicken in our room – 15th January 2010

We have a chicken in our room or so read the message from devil/angel. “Is she drunk? Or has she gone crazy”, dodo asks me.
With earphones on her head and talking to her parents, it was beginning to dawn on me that I would have to be the one to get up from my ever so lazy but comfortable position and go check up on devil/angel.
“Hmm…. I think I better go check up on her.”
So I walk down the stairs and up another, en route from dodo’s room to mine. By the way, devil/angel and I are room mates. As I close in on room V226, I hear a commotion inside. For all I know, they could actually have a real……………
“OH MY GOD!”
“It’s a real chicken.”
Devil/angel looks at me furiously. “We have a chicken in our room.”
“Hey that’s sweet…” Devil/angel’s eyes flash red and I swallow the rest of my words. ”I mean….I suppose.”
“Stupid chicken.”
The chicken was probably 2 to 3 months old, golden yellow, adorably cute and unfortunately extremely noisy. Unfortunate for the chicken that is, because his new room mate happened to be devil/angel. So there I was with my arms stinging from an earlier mishap that I had about which I shall tell you later, looking from the chicken to devil/angel. Was it just me or did the chicken actually take a couple of furtive steps backwards.
“Stupid chicken.”
“Dude, what is your problem with the chicken”
“I don’t like animals”
“And yet you refuse to eat them”
“What has that got to do with anything!”
Okay phoenix, time for you to back off before devil/angel really loses it. Like the chicken, I decided it would be best if I took a couple of steps back.
This was a good thing though because a few minutes ago, I was feeling immensely crappy. Things had not gone according to plan and once again I found myself hurting (this time physically too). Life surprises you in the weirdest ways and I was glad, no thankful to have something to distract me.
Seeing how I was the most well informed about chickens, I decided to delegate work. Operation keeping the chicken alive began.
Plan A:
Keep it in the Morphy Richards box.
So devil/angel starts cutting holes in the box with a very sharp and long blade. The look in her eyes tells me that we should move to Plan B.
Plan B:
Keep it in the balcony.
Enough sunlight, fresh air.
Just have to make sure it doesn’t fall into the drainage hole.
So we begin the process of building a fortress around the chicken with all the boxes that devil/angel likes to collect.
I’m happy to say that Plan B was a success and that the chicken is happy and…….
“Oh shit.”
“What now!” devil/ angel looks at me from across the room through the kitchen to the balcony door where I’m sitting currently with my laptop in my lap and keeping an eye on the chicken.
“Nothing “, I said as I picked the chicken up from the ground and put it back in jail..sorry…enclosure.
“The chicken just sort of escaped, that’s all.”
As I looked from the chicken to devil/angel, I thought, stupid chicken.
This is phoenix looking after her chicken.
Note: No animals or birds were harmed during the making of this blog.